


Tales of a Robin in Distress

by saccarines (orphan_account)



Series: you're breathing in fumes [1]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Renegade!Dick, Robin!Damian, Sleeping with the enemy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/saccarines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Renegade 'verse drabbles, prompts, and short stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Double-Cross

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 6 & 7 are in conjunction with the main timeline, so be sure not to read those before you read what they connect to!

“Maybe _this_ ’ll send a message to the Bat not to mess wit’ us!”

 

Robin wants to roll his eyes under the mask, twisting his hands in the surprisingly good-quality handcuffs. He isn’t worried about the trio of goons before him, even if he is in a bit of a sticky situation. His utility belt and communicator are across the warehouse, laying helpless on a lone table, while his wrists are handcuffed behind his back and his ankles are tied together with the worst knot in criminal history.

 

“Are you supposed to be _intimidating_ me? Or _entertaining_ me?”

 

“Shut up!” One of the goons points at him with a nightstick.

 

Damian mimics him in a scratchy, high-pitch voice, “You three are the most _boring_ criminals I’ve ever fought.”

 

“We tied _you_ up, didn’ we?” One grins, showing off a row of missing teeth. Damian smirks slightly at his handiwork.

 

“ _After_ I bashed out your teeth and incapacitated your fourth guy,” Damian smirks, “You look ridiculous.”

 

“You-!”

 

Before the goon can finish his threat, his body locks up and his eyes roll back. He pitches forward, landing on the dirty ground face-down, unmoving. The two flanking his side go on immediate alert, looking around the shadows of the warehouse, nightsticks out.

 

“Is it the Bat?” One of them yells to the other.

 

Damian stares at the man on the ground, eyes locked to the projectile imbedded in the back of the man’s head. Definitely dead. “Not Batman,” He mutters.

 

Almost on cue, a blur of black and red drops down between the two goons. One gets a foot to the tailbone, sending him forward with a yell. The other gets a swift punch to the back of the head, knocking him out. The goon who was kicked scrambles to his feet, holding out the nightstick. “Who the ‘el are you?”

 

The man holds up a finger, wagging it at the shaking criminal in a ‘tsk-tsk’ manner. “You know who I am.”

 

“B-but we’re on the same side! We-”

 

Damian looks away as another projectile sinks into the man’s forehead. He winces when the man falls forward, pushing the knife through his skull.

 

“No, we’re not.” The man shakes his head, finally glancing over to Damian, “You aren’t out of those yet?”

 

“Shut up, _Renegade_ ,” Damian sneers, “I didn’t ask for your _help_.” He easily frees his feet but his hands are still locked behind him.

 

Renegade observes the squirming Robin for a moment before sauntering over to him. He crouches down, grabbing Robin by the ankles and pulling him closer in a quick motion. Robin stiffens, moving back as far as he can from the older man. Renegade follows, giving the boy a dirty kiss.

 

Robin voices his protests, muffled by Renegade’s mouth, and tries to kick at him. Renegade still has his ankles in his hold, however so the action is futile. “Who said I was helping you?” Renegade asks as he pulls away, “Maybe I _like_ you all tied up for me.”

 

Damian freezes, “Did you-?”

 

“I don’t think _Bat_ man will notice if you’re gone for a _few_ more hours,” Renegade trails a finger up Robin’s thigh. The Boy Wonder jerks, trying to put distance between himself and the rogue vigilante. “I want to take you home.”

 

“You’re crazy,” Robin grunts as Renegade’s fingers dance along his thigh and ghost over his crotch.

 

“I’m not crazy,” Renegade admonishes. He lets go of Robin’s other ankle, bringing his fingers up to card through short hair, “ _You’re_ the one running around in the dead of night fighting _crime_.”

 

“You _commit_ crimes,” Robin bites his lip as Renegade’s fingers tug in his hair. Until recently, his run-ins with Renegade were mostly spent watching boredly as Batman and the rogue exchanged angry/cheerful banter. Robin doesn’t know what’s changed but suddenly Renegade is much more interested in _him_. “You have the key to these, don’t you. Unlock them.”

 

“Mm. No.” Renegade shakes his head, “See, if I _unlock_ them, you’ll run off.” He finally sits back, dragged Robin with him until he’s awkwardly straddling Renegade’s lap.

 

“Rene-!” Robin squeezes his eyes closed as Renegade kiss him again. He keeps his mouth pressed in a firm line as Renegade licks at his lips, eventually biting harshly to get Robin to open his mouth. The kiss tastes a little like blood and it’s too familiar for Robin’s liking.

 

“Robin!”

 

They both jolt as Batman’s voice comes from the shadows. Renegade unceremoniously pushes Robin off of him, standing up just in time to avoid getting kicked by Batman. Robin sits up, watching as Renegade artfully dodges all of Batman’s attacks, moving fluidly and deadly.

 

He vaults backwards, doing a perfect back-flip and landing just behind Robin on one knee. He grabs the younger boy, pulling him backwards so his lips are lined up with Robin’s ear.

 

“Bye, Damian.”

 

Renegade presses a kiss to Damian’s cheek, if only to irritate Batman even more, and stands up, retreating into the shadows.

 

Damian lifts his shoulder, rubbing his afflicted cheek against the fabric of his uniform. He tries not to think about the hidden threats in Renegade’s words, and tries not to think about the way Renegade seems to know just how to push the right buttons to make Damian reevaluate every part of their interactions.

 

“Robin?” Batman demands, Bruce asks, “Are you alright?”

 

“I’m _fine_.” Robin answers, Damian lies.


	2. Always be Prepared

Although it’s happened before, Robin is still taken by surprise when he hears his line snap and he goes from his upswing to flying through the air. He barely has time to yell before someone barrels into his side, an arm wrapping around his waist and securing him.

 

“Wha-!” Robin cranes his head, “Renegade?” He pushes at the older man’s side incessantly.

 

Renegade lets go of his own grapple, tossing Robin into the air above him. He lands on the ledge of the roof, holding out his arms so Robin has somewhere to land, bridal style.

 

“Evening, Robin.” Renegade grins widely.

 

“Let me go!” Robin struggles in his loose hold, “Did you _cut_ my line?”

 

“Why, yes I did.” Renegade sets Robin on his feet, keeping one hand intertwined with the junior vigilantes.

 

Robin growls, trying to reclaim his fingers, “I’m on patrol, leave me alone. And I could have _died_ , you ingrate!”

 

“Don’t be so overdramatic,” Renegade waves a hand, “I would never have let you hit the ground.”

 

“That doesn’t make it _better_ ,” Robin takes a step back, bringing Renegade with him.

 

“I just wanted to spend a little time with you, Robin. You _are_ my favorite, after all.” Renegade ruffles his hair, “Our meetings always get cut so _short_.”

 

“Thankfully,” Robin spits.

 

Renegade frowns, “Why do you always try and make me mad?” Renegade pushes his side, sending Damian careening over the edge of the roof. Only Renegade’s tight hold on his hand keeps Robin from falling. “Maybe I should just knock you out and take you with me.”

 

Before Robin can retort, Renegade sighs. “ _Great_. Right on time.”

 

A black mass is moving towards them, obviously Batman. Renegade pulls Robin upright, wrapping a hand around his waist, “Let’s see if he can catch us?”

 

“ _What_?”

 

Renegade tips off the ledge of the building, holding Robin tightly. They fall through the air, Robin’s cape cracking at the air above them. Renegade somehow manages to flip them around as he lands on the thin railing of a fire escape several feet below.

 

The air is forced out of Robin’s lungs with the impact and he’s left gasping. Renegade takes the moments to kiss him, pushing his tongue in Robin’s mouth with abandon. Robin grunts, not able to do much but let it happen (and it’s a lot less bloody than some of their kisses, so there’s a win).

 

Renegade pulls away with a grin, saluting Robin with two fingers, “Catch you around, little bird.”

 

“Hopefully _not_ ,” Robin replies as Renegade flips off the side of the fire escape and into the night. He wipes his lips on his sleeve and waits for Batman to come find him. Next time he meets Renegade, he’ll bring a taser or something.

 

 


	3. TLC

Damian hisses as Renegade’s fingers prod along the swollen skin of his ankle. He doesn’t make the noise because of the fresh cut running along the top of his foot, rather the fact that it’s undoubtedly sprained. “You aren’t _helping_.”

 

Renegade shakes his head, pieces of hair hanging over his mask and hiding his eyelets. “This is pretty bad, Dami. There’s no way you’re going back out there tonight, or any night in the future for that matter.”

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Damian pulls his foot out of Renegade’s surprisingly gentle hands, “Mother will just send her surgeons and I’ll be out on patrol within the day.”

 

“And how do you plan to get back home to let her know, hm? You can’t walk on it.”

 

“Yes, I can.” Damian puts hand on the brick behind him for stability as he pushes himself up, all his weight on his good foot.

 

Renegade stares at him for a moment before his hand darts out, circling around Damian’s wounded ankle and squeezing. He can’t hold back the yell, and the pain causes his hand to slip from the wall, and suddenly he’s falling.

  
Renegade catches him and picks him up quickly, cradling Damian like he’s a newborn, “Sorry, Batling. I’m not going to let you go off and hurt yourself even more.”

 

“Let go of me!” Damian pushes at his chest, fully expecting Renegade to drop him as usual. He doesn’t want to think of the other option. Of Renegade finally making good on his promise to take him home and keep him there.

 

“Calm down, Dami,” Renegade gives him a jostling shake, “I’m not going to do anything to you. I’m just going to take care of you, okay?”

 

“Then activate my distress signal and leave,” Damian says.

 

“You’ll get home, I promise.” Renegade walks to the mouth of the alley, ignoring the strange looks from passing civilians. “Stop moving around. I have a hideout around here.”

 

“ _A_ hideout?”

 

“You Bats aren’t the only ones that keep more than one safe house around, you know.”

 

Damian scowls, squirming one last time before settling in to Dick’s hold. “Don’t even think of not taking me home later.”

 

“I promised, didn’t I?”

 

:::

 

Renegade’s safe house is surprisingly accommodating, stocked full with medical supplies and comfortable furniture. When Renegade sets Damian on the couch, he sinks back into the cushion from his weight alone. Renegade trots into the small kitchen unit, and Damian turns to survey the area as he rummages around.

 

“You left my boot,” Damian says bluntly, suddenly remembering the missing article of his costume.

 

“I’ll get it later.” Renegade replies, tone distracted.

 

Damian looks down at his ankle, frowning at the swollen, pink skin. He isn’t even sure how he sprained it unless it was during his sparring match with Drake and he didn’t notice until patrol. It could have had something to do with the bank heist he broke up on the way to engage Hood, or the temporary fight with Hood himself before Renegade showed up and shooed him off.

 

It was probably from falling from the rooftop to the alleyway, though. Even the memory makes Damian wince. It was embarrassing _and_ it hurt. That was two points against him.

 

He looks away when Renegade comes back to the couch, sitting against the opposite armrest and bending one leg under him. He divests Damian of his other boot before lightly cupping his swelling ankle. Damian winces when a bag of ice is pressed against it, from the cold and the added pressure.

 

“You have to keep ice on it for a while,” Renegade apologizes, “Then I’ll wrap it and take you home, okay?”

 

Damian frowns, leaning into the couch and folding his arms. His frown grows into a scowl as his mind reruns what he could have changed to avoid this. A light tap on his knee makes him look back to the vigilante, “What?”

 

“I don’t know if you’re berating yourself for this or something, but stop. Even heroes get hurt, Damian.”

 

“What would _you_ know about heroes?”

 

A brief mars Renegade’s face before vanishing, “Keep this on for twenty minutes or so.” He stands, setting Damian’s foot on the cushion, before heading to the door.

 

“Where are you going?” Damian demands, heart hammering in his chest. For a moment he thinks Renegade is leaving because of him, and it makes him almost panic.

 

“I have vigilante business to finish,” Renegade waves a hand, “You know, places to rob. That kind of thing.”

 

Before Damian can reply, Renegade is out the door, shutting it forcefully behind him. Damian stares at the door in surprised silence, sinking back into the cushion slowly. He curls up to the curve of the couch, laying his ankle on the ice pack, guilt picking at his brain.

 

He intends to remain awake, but he winds up falling asleep before Renegade returns. When he finally does wake up, it’s to his own ceiling, tucked in his own bed, ankle wrapped in a cloth brace with a single heart drawn on it in blue.

 

(That, at least, makes him feel a little better.)


	4. Playing Favorites

Gotham is a little bit like a playground. A giant, very dangerous playground, but fun none-the-less. It’s what made Renegade choose the city in the first place, despite Deathstroke’s warnings about Batman and his merry men.

 

Initially, Renegade stayed out of their way. But it’s Gotham, and eventually every ‘bad guy’ will have a run-in with the Batman. Renegade’s first interaction leaves him intrigued and excited. He’s not used to people being able to keep up with his acrobatics, and although Batman isn’t an acrobat in any sense of the word, he is good enough to make Renegade break a light sweat by the end of their fight.

 

So Renegade does what any good antagonist would do. He researches. He contacts his contact’s contacts. He finds out what he needs to know to make the Bat paranoid. To put him off his game. He learns about the first Robin, Jason Peter Todd. The should-be-dead Robin, now known as Red Hood. _That_ is a name Renegade knows, and from there, it gets easier.

 

Whatever grudge Red Hood seems to have for the Bat, it’s strong enough to allow Renegade some useful information. He knows all about Jason’s stint as Robin. He uses it, taunting Batman with it. A ‘terrible father, aren’t you?’ here and a ‘Jason makes a better villain anyway’ there has Batman raising hell to try and catch him.

 

But Renegade is good, and Batman doesn’t know who he is.

 

Like all of Renegade’s little toys, though, he loses interest in Batman. From there, his focus shifts to Red Robin, the replacement, and the supposed bane of Red Hood’s existence. Red Robin is boring. He’s methodical, and studious, and Renegade has heard rumors that the Demon’s Head has an interest in him but he can’t fathom why. Not Renegade’s type at all. They fight once, and Renegade drop-kicks him off a building and walks away.

 

He plays with Batgirl next. She’s a little better. Quippy, talkative, and a decent fighter. Renegade has fun with her for a few days before she bores him too. Renegade has about had it with the Bats when he sees the article in the morning paper.

 

Batman has a Robin again.

 

And Renegade can’t let that rest before he leaves.

 

So Renegade focuses on Batman once more, keeping an eye on Robin while he does it. Robin, for his part, doesn’t acknowledge him. He fights the lesser goons while Renegade taunts Batman, and Renegade has yet to catch him on his own.

 

He’s really ready to leave Gotham at this point, but he wants to give the city a last good-bye, so he decides to do one last round before he leaves. He takes his time, building trust with two separate gangs, pitting them against each other, and setting up the location for them to start their blood feud.

 

That’s where he meets Robin.

 

Renegade is perched on the railing of a fire escape, high above the massacre that’s going down between the gangs below (all thanks to him. Deathstroke would be proud). He’s so focused on them that he almost misses the movement in the shadows cast by the moon above. He sidesteps just in time to avoid the strike of a batarang, latching on to the side of the escape and looking up.

 

Robin is standing on the edge of the roof, hood pulled over his head, more weapons at the ready. Renegade grins so wide his cheeks hurt. Before Robin can throw another, Renegade scales the side of the building, flipping to the roof with gusto and landing a few feet behind the young vigilante.

 

“Robin.” He greets, mockingly tipping an invisible hat.

 

Robin bares sharp teeth, moving in a defensive position.

 

“It’s Renegade,” He supplies helpfully, putting his hands on his hips.

 

Robin doesn’t seem to care. He launches himself at Renegade, grabbing him around the waist and sending them both to the surface of the roof. Renegade wrestles around with him a little, eventually flipping them and distributing his weight enough that Robin can’t get up.

 

“Pinned ya,” He grins.

 

Robin bares his teeth again. “Get off!”

 

Renegade pretends to think it over, “No.” He studies Robin instead, the uniform, the expression, the tension. What little Red Hood had told him about this new Robin was right; he’s like a little wild animal. It’s cute.

 

“I was wondering if I’d ever fight you one-on-one. I always wanted to know what a tiny assassin fought like.”

 

Robin pauses in his struggles, “What?”

 

“You’re from the League, right? Deathstroke, my old mentor, he’s worked with them a few times.” Renegade grins down at him, “If you’re referring to my knowledge of it, that’s not all I know about you _Damian_.”

 

Damian goes completely still, color draining from what little skin Renegade can see. It’s interesting. None of the others had reacted like this when Renegade dropped _their_ names. “How do you know my name?”

 

“I just _do_.” Renegade smiles, leaning closer, “Say, are you going to be any fun?”

 

“What?”

 

“Well, the other Bats aren’t any fun.” Renegade says slowly, “Batman is all “No fun, only Justice” and Hood isn’t really a _Bat_ anymore. Red Robin was a killjoy and Batgirl was predictable. Are you like them?”

 

That seems to be something Robin takes offense to, because he snarls, “I’m _nothing_ like Red Robin!”

 

“Hm. Ferocious, aren’t you? I like that.” Renegade leans even closer, “Deadly too, I’ll bet. Tell me something, little bird, why aren’t you killing anymore?”

 

This close, Renegade can hear Robin’s com crackle to life, “Robin? Oracle to Robin, _where_ are you? You haven’t been authorized for solo patrol yet!”

 

“ _Oh_ ,” Renegade grins slowly, “They don’t trust you.”

 

“ _Shut up_!”

 

“Hm.” Renegade sits up, still trapping Robin, “Sensitive issue? Sorry, I’ve been told I don’t observe the proper boundaries of conversation. I like to talk too much, you know?”

 

Robin tries to remove his wrists from Renegade’s grip, “You’re a nuisance.”

 

“A nuisance that has _you_ pinned down, right?” Renegade grins, “Yes, I think I’m going to like _you_. You’re a bit like a…a Tasmanian devil, maybe?”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“We could totally be like Batman and Catwoman. I’m Catwoman, of course.” Renegade has the audacity to flick Damian’s nose, “Meaning _you’ll_ never catch me and _I’ll_ always be around when you least expect it.”

 

“Batman has put Catwoman in jail before,” Damian sounds a little desperate and a lot lost, more or less resigned to being trapped.

 

Renegade shrugs, “Eh. You’re missing the reference. You should read up on some pop culture before we meet again so you can keep up.”

 

“ _Get_ _off_ _of me_ , _dammit_!”

 

Renegade chuckles, letting Damian’s hands go. He narrowly avoids a strike, rolling off Damian and jumping to his feet and the edge of the roof. He looks back, waving cheerfully at the angry boy, “I like you a lot Robin! I see good things in our future! Remember, read up on some references!”

 

Robin takes a threatening step towards him and Renegade backflips off the edge of the roof, landing on the fire escape. From there he makes his way down to the gang war, disappearing in the fray. He knows Robin is watching over the ledge of the roof for him, and he knows when Robin loses sight of him.

 

Renegade is glad he decided to pull one last stint. Robin is interesting.

  
Robin is _fun_.

 

 


	5. Come What May - Valentine's Day

“I’ll have him home by morning,” Renegade sings into the com before he tosses it into the water below.

 

Damian glares up at him from where he’s handcuffed to the bar running along the inside of the boat. “This is one of your stupidest ideas yet.”

 

“What do you mean?” Renegade sits down, looking around, “We’re on a tugboat in the middle of the bay. Not exactly easy to get to.”

 

“Not exactly easy to hide on.” Damian replies.

 

“Did you want me to hide you? If you prefer that, I have no problem-”

 

“No.” Damian interrupts. “Just...do your kissing thing and get it over with.”

 

“My…kissing thing? Explain.”

 

Damian sighs, “You kiss me. Batman shows up. You run away, throwing me off a building if possible. I get interrogated. The night ends.”

 

“Wait, are you saying…that I’ve become predictable?” Renegade gapes at him, “Damian, that is so _rude_!”

 

“Then stop being so predictable.” Damian shrugs.

 

Renegade frowns. “Well, fine, then. You asked.” He moves to a crouch, reaching for Damian’s mask.

 

The boy jerks back, “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m changing things up.” Renegade reaches again, “I already know who you are. Calm down.”

 

“That’s not the point!” Damian moves as far as the cuffs allow, squirming away when Renegade presses up against him. “Leave it on!”

 

“If I leave it on, I’m going to do the kissing thing.”

 

“Fine. Whatever. Just leave it on.”

 

“You’ll kiss back. You have _before_ , but not really. I mean, you’ll actually make some effort?”

 

“…fine.” Damian snaps.

 

“I want you to kiss me.” Renegade sits back, grinning widely at the boy, “You make the first move.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because it’s different.” Renegade shrugs, “Unless you’re not confident enough….?”

 

“I am.” Damian frowns, possibly realizing he’s been played. “Fine. Just…close your eyes.”

 

“How will you know?” Renegade tilts his head, “Mask.”

 

“Just…just do it.” Damian grumbles, moving closer, relishing the slack in the cuffs.

 

Damian doesn’t know if Renegade actually closes his eyes, and as usual, their make-out session is interrupted by the Bat, who looks _extra_ displeased to see Damian in Renegade’s lap. When he gets back to his room in the wee hours of the morning, he’s unsurprised to see a note on the pillow reading ‘I didn’t close my eyes’ with a heart drawn in the bottom corner. 


	6. You're a Hard Game to Catch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set inside the last paragraph of Chapter 3 of the main story.

“In your _dreams_ , maybe.”

 

“Oh. _Definitely_ in my dreams.”

 

Damian frowns down at the rogue, ignoring his flushing cheeks. “You-”

 

“What can I say?” Renegade shifts, causing Damian to shift with him. “I dream about you _all_ the time.” He hikes up Damian’s shirt, revealing a wide expanse of dark skin.

 

Damian manages a scowl, “Don’t be ridiculous,” He mutters. He’s already agreed to stay, there’s no need for Renegade to prattle on about things.

 

“I don’t think you’ve got the right word, there.” Renegade hoists him to his knees, putting the exposed skin in his line of sight so when he speaks his breath brushes against Damian’s stomach. “I think you mean _flattered_. Or _sexy_.”

 

“Or creepy,” Damian shoots.

 

“Some of them, maybe,” Renegade grins up at him. “Not the majority, I promise.”

 

Damian’s breath hitches when Renegade leans forward, nose pressing just above his navel. “What are you doing?”

 

“I told you I’d put them in less obvious places. Unless you regularly parade around your house shirtless…?”

 

“I told you in your _dreams_.”

 

“Yes, I know.” Renegade rolls his eyes. “We’ve done this part already.”

 

Without warning, Damian’s world shifts. Renegade flips them so Damian lies trapped beneath him, arms still resting on the rogue’s shoulders.

 

“You agreed to stay, Damian. If you don’t want this, then leave.”

 

Damian blinks, breathing harder than normal. “You…are blocking me.”

 

“I’ll move.”

 

They stare each other down for a long, silent moment. Damian is the one the breaks it, surging up for a teeth-knocking kiss. Renegade hums pleasantly, a sound Damian immediately equates to being pleased with his _decision_ as well as his actions. A warm shiver runs down his spine, tingling even as Renegade breaks the kiss and moves down.

 

He pushes himself to his forearms as Renegade unbuttons his shirt, letting it hang off Damian’s shoulders. He takes quick moment to run his hands along Damian’s skin before he’s leaning down and kissing to the lower-left of Damian’s navel.

 

It takes less time than usual for the kiss to turn into a light sucking, and Damian really wouldn’t react the way he does if Renegade hadn’t raked his nails feather-light down the opposite side of his torso.

 

Damian’s breath whooshes out in a surprised moan; one that receives a chuckle from the rogue. When Renegade has decided he’s satisfied with the mark left behind, he moves to the other side, higher up. He repeats the action with his nails down Damian’s left side, humming in disappointment when Damian is able to hold back his moan.

 

Renegade pulls back just enough to push Damian to his back. “Has anyone ever told you that you have a cute bellybutton?”

 

“ _No_.”

 

“Mm. Well, you do.” Renegade presses a kiss to it to illustrate his point. “You _also_ have a very cute tummy.”

 

“I-…do _not_.”

 

Renegade hums, snagging his fingers in Damian’s waistband. He doesn’t stop humming either, dissolving into some unfamiliar melody.

 

“I want to give you a hickey on your thigh. Are you wearing underwear?”

 

“ _What_?” Damian’s cheeks are inflamed, and he’s glad to not be staring own the rogue anymore. “ _Of course_ I am!”

 

“Good.” Renegade makes quick work of the button on Damian’s slacks. He yanks the pants down before Damian can properly protest, revealing black briefs. Damian is almost thankful the change of clothes Selina had provided included them, because it’s much better than a jock at the moment.

 

Renegade hooks his fingers under Damian’s knee, lifting his leg out of the way, stretching just far enough to burn. He kisses the skin of Damian’s inner thigh, missing or – more likely – ignoring the way the stimulation makes Damian’s voice fall in a helpless whimper.

 

He leaves a large hickey on the skin there, finishing it off with a hard nip that makes Damian’s whole leg jerk in response. When the rogue finally drops his leg, he barely avoids a swipe from Damian’s foot with a laugh.

 

“What was _that_?”

 

Renegade continues to laugh. “A parting gift?”

 

He drapes himself over Damian’s body, bringing their noses a breath’s width away. “Did you like it?”

 

Damian’s response is unintelligible, and somehow causes the direct reaction of Renegade kissing him. This time, when Renegade pulls away he brings his mouth to Damian’s ear, whispering lowly.

 

“You’re a bad little love, and you’re _mine_.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

Renegade gives him one last peck before rising to his knees, pushing the hair that had been framing his face out of the way. “It’s not usually _me_ who cuts things short, but I have to go make sure those men are delivering my messages, you know? Business will be business.”

 

“You-!”

 

“It’s too bad,” Renegade breathes, “My night is dead without you.”

 

Damian doesn’t hold back the disgruntled, disbelieving whine as Renegade sweeps out of the room. He falls back to the couch, breath still coming in uneven intervals. He isn’t sure how long he remains in the room. The only thing he’s sure of is that he’s got a problem that needs to be dealt with, and he isn’t referring to the tent in his briefs. 


	7. Twisted and Complicated

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright. Much of the dialogue here will be very familiar to you, considering it’s simply a POV switch of Chapter 4. Still, we get a tiny peek inside Renegade’s mind, so that’s something?

Renegade notices he has company as soon as Hood and Robin start bickering. Robin – he doesn’t mind being here. Hood could be a problem. Despite that they’d worked together in the past, Renegade was never sure where his true loyalties lied.

 

He motions for one of the men to follow him, slipping around the opposite end of the warehouse Hood and Robin are hiding in the shadow of. They creep up through the building and to the roof, and Renegade has the man stay there as he drops silently to the fire escape below, tuning in to their conversation.

 

“I _said_ give or take,” Hood drawls.

 

“There were twenty before,” Robin snaps. “Now there are nineteen. Where did the twentieth go?”

 

Renegade takes a moment to smile. Of course Robin - Damian - would be the first to notice. He really was almost perfectly trained. It’s a never ending source of disappointment for Renegade that he seems to be serious about playing the hero.

 

He drops his smile, “Evening, boys.”

 

Hood and Robin both look up, eerily similar expressions of surprise on their faces. Renegade leans forward, sliding his elbows along the rail of the fire escape.

 

“You’re not planning to ruin my operation, are you?”

 

Renegade sees Hood go for his gun, and takes pride in the tension strung through his shoulders.

 

“What if I was,” Hood asks, slowly back towards the end of the alley. “ _I_ run the drug trade in Gotham, Renegade. Everyone knows that.”

 

Renegade spreads his arms, “They decided they wanted someone better.”

 

Renegade turns his gaze to Robin – his little bird – and lets coldness coat his tone, “I don’t want to hurt _you_ -” more than strictly necessary “-Robin, but if you’re here to stop me we _will_ be fighting.”

 

He looks away as Robin tenses. “However, I don’t see why we can’t come to a business arrangement. We’ve worked together in the past.”

 

“We have,” Hood says bluntly.

 

“I made some promises to some very nasty people about these equally nasty drugs. I won’t be breaking it because two boys in kevlar think it’s a good idea to step in,” Renegade props his chin on his fist.

 

Hood doesn’t drop his hand from his gun, “What kind of business arrangement?”

 

“ _Hood_!” Robin sounds furious. It’s cute.

 

“Shut _up_. If you haven’t noticed, _brat_ , there are three snipers on the roof above him,” Hood snaps.

 

Renegade glances up, noticing the two that had joined the first. At least they hadn’t started shooting when Hood noticed them. Renegade will have to use them in the future.

 

“A simple arrangement, really. You can keep running the drug trade in the slums and the Narrows. I don’t particularly care about them. I _do_ , however, care about the docks. Anything that goes on here? Falls under my jurisdiction.”

 

Renegade can see Hood mulling it over, weighing the pros and cons of effectively losing a quarter of his income. His hand strays from his holster to his waist, “That puts the entire Bay in your hands.”

 

He shrugs, “I need it more than you. You do all your work in Gotham, Hood. I don’t.”

 

Hood folds his arms, guard not lowering, “What do I get out of it.”

“To live.”

 

Robin and Hood exchange a glance, “ _What_?”

 

“You get to live,” Renegade repeats slowly, rocking back on his heels, “If you walk away, and leave this operation in my hands, I don’t have to tell them to pull their triggers.”

 

Hood drops his arms, “You’re serious?”

 

“Unfortunately, _deadly_.”

 

 “This is _bullshit_.” Hood takes a threatening step forward.

 

“We’ve worked together,” Renegade holds up a hand, cautioning the now-alert snipers above. “We aren’t partners. I don’t owe you any allegiance. It’s not _bullshit_ , Hood, it’s just good business.”

 

“Fuck _that_!”

 

“I can understand why you’re angry,” Renegade nods, because really he can. If he were in their position he wouldn’t be very happy either. “But you lose. I’ve got the advantage here. Be smart, Hood. Don’t be dead.” He returns his chin to his hand, waiting for Hood’s next move.

 

Red Hood takes a deep, frustrated breath. He turns, heading for the mouth of the alley, “ _Fuck_. Let’s go, brat.”

 

“No,” Renegade shifts, folding his fingers under his chin. “Robin stays.”

 

-

 

“Well, that could have gone better.” Renegade saunters up to Damian, glad for the snipers no longer aiming at his favorite little bird, despite the fact he’d been the one giving orders. “I thought with Killer Croc on the lose Batman would have you all focus on _him_.”

 

He reaches out of habit, aiming to ruffle Damian’s hair. He’s not expecting the vicious slap or Damian’s exclamation of, “Don’t _touch_ me!”

 

Renegade is taken aback. It’s been quite some time since Damian reacted to his touch so negatively.

 

“Why?”

 

“Why?” Damian repeats, “You just had _snipers_ aimed at me!”

 

Renegade sighs, Alright, maybe the snipers had been a mistake. But it’s not like he would have allowed them to _actually_ shoot Damian, “At _Red Hood_ -”

 

“At _me_ ,” Damian puts space between them. “They would have shot me if I’d done anything..”

 

They would have been dead if they tried, and they knew that. “That _is_ generally the idea behind a sniper.”

 

“You would have been alright with that? Them shooting us?”

 

Every thug in Gotham knew that Robin was Renegade’s. “Shooting Hood?” Yes.

 

“Shooting _me_.”

 

No. Renegade sighs. Clearly Damian isn’t seeing this like he is. “We’re not exactly on the same side, Damian. I like you, I _do_. But I have priorities.”

 

Damian looks like he’s been hit. Or like he’s finally realizing what Renegade is really like. He bristles slowly, putting his defenses up. “If I was in the League, you would have been _dead_ for that.”

 

“But you’re _not_ , are you?” Renegade takes a step forward, backing Damian against the wall. “You’re _not_ in the League of Assassins anymore. If you were, our conversation would be going very differently right now.”

 

“- _tt_ \- I suppose it _would_.”

 

Yes. If Damian was League, he would have killed Hood and licked the blood from his blade to boot.

 

What a truly pleasant image.

 

Renegade frowns as Damian starts striding away, “Damian.” He puts his arms on his waist. “Damian!”

 

His frown deepens when the boy doesn’t turn back.

 

Had he really been so upset about the guns? Did he really not know that the snipers would rather off themselves than deal with Renegade if they’d hurt him?

 

Clearly Damian doesn’t know how serious…how important he is to Renegade.

                                                                                                          

Clearly, Renegade is going to have to change that.


End file.
